


Tale of the Summoner

by blacksmiley



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Adventure, Betrayal, Demon, Dreadlord - Freeform, Fantasy, Fel Magic, Gen, Legion - Freeform, Mystery, Nathrezim, Night Elf, Paladin, Partnership, Tauren - Freeform, Warlock - Freeform, World of Warcraft - Freeform, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth, World of Warcraft: Legion, Wow, blood elf, demon hunter - Freeform, feralas, mulgore, original characters but perhaps not only, tale of the summoner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:43:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21550966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacksmiley/pseuds/blacksmiley
Summary: "Tale of the Summoner" follows the path of a blood elf warlock, Maelon, who is looking forward to receive his promised reward, a trinket from a dreadlord. But as demons are not to be trusted, he will find himself caught with Saelas, a demon hunter, who seemed to chase down someone alike his target as well, which will lead them into pairing up and try solve the mystery together.
Kudos: 5





	1. A Summoning Gone Wrong

The forest hiding the Ruins of Isildien, which were part of a long-forgotten city of the night elves, radiated a dark energy that evening. Critters of all kind ran and flew all directions, as far as they could reach from the abandoned ruins, which were enveloped in an unusual shade of green; a fel magic tone of green, which almost never spoke of good.

No matter where his feet would drag him, there would always be a path leading him back into Feralas, to those very ruins, where he first encountered the book that darkened his mind and transformed him into Legion’s slave, putting on his shoulder’s the weight of whole Azeroth’s fury. Up to that day he was still on the run, his head wanted by many, even though he ceased any contact with the Legion, given his awakening from the brainwashing state the summoning item put him into. Surely, he’d bring out from the Twisting Nether a demon or two once in a while, to serve him in various situations, but that was only his usual warlock kind of thing; each of those alike himself did that, so there wasn’t much of a harm as he considered.

However, that evening was different. He wanted to bring out a dreadlord he had to finish a deal with. He had a trinket offer some time ago, in exchange of some dirty deeds. With his part finished, the warlock awaited the other’s reward to show up, sent by a way or another, but it never found him, so he thought it’s best to go straight to the core of the problem, and ask for his promised item himself. Demons weren’t to be trusted, but a bargain was a bargain, no matter what realm one came from.

After tracing meticulously on the ground the shape of the summoning sigil, which was much more complicated and different from his usual, he positioned himself in its middle and began to silently chant the ritual, causing the surroundings to slowly fall into the fel shade of green. He felt the energy flowing through his body stronger and stronger, with each word that brought him closer to the end of the spell, making him cry out the last words, as the rift opened above him in the skies, swirling clouds around it like a vortex. It was a matter of seconds until the ground before him was struck by a powerful ray, which brought along with it the summoned one, throwing the warlock off with the blast quite at a distance from the sigil.

A heavy cough, loaded with dust, almost left him breathless as he struggled to get back on his two and face the demon. He brushed off part of the twigs and dirt that his robe caught and narrowed his eyes at the rather unfamiliar silhouette emerging from the summoning circle. There were indeed wings and horns, but it appeared to be way smaller than he recalled and he doubted it was possible anyhow. The shape of the other turned out to be a feminine one, and just when he started to give thoughts to how could a succubus come out such a powerful spell, his eyes widened at the unexpected discovery.

“You are no demon.” He instinctively took a step behind as the other emerged from the dusty cloud, revealing itself to be a demon hunter.

“And neither are you, sleazy warlock.” She wrinkled her nose at the sight, seeming rather annoyed with the discovery. “Where did he go?” She narrowed her eyes at him, measuring him from head to toes.

“Who?”

“The demon.”

“What demon?”

“Don’t you dare play games with me.” She snarled at him, shoving one of her blades under his nose, to which the other raised his hands in surrender, taking slowly another step behind.

“I’m not playing any games.” He frowned as well, not pleased with the outcome. “You were the only one that came outside the portal.”

“Impossible!” She raised her voice on a threatening tone, pushing the blade back into his face. “I was chasing him and he went right through the portal, making me jump after him.”

“Look… Lady. I just had a business to close with a dreadlord. He owed me a trinket. I have no idea of your demon and neither have I seen any. You just landed there and blasted me away.”

“He must have had just seconds advantage.” She muttered to herself and glanced around, lowering her weapon, but immediately pushing it back towards the other as he tried making his way out the encounter. Their eyes locked again and for a moment he forgot how to breathe, fully aware that she only needed a swing of hand to cut off his head.

“Not sure what dreadlord would be willing to make a deal with you, but some seem to be desperate for a contact with the outside world after the Legion got its legs cut.” She went on, finally relaxing her body and hanging back her twin blades onto her back, but not before pushing off the hood of the other with the tip of her weapon. A smirk crossed her face at the sight.

“With such a small silhouette, I almost mistook you for an undead… Elf.”

“Very funny.” He frowned, dusting himself off once again, not to seem too keen on departing as fast as possible, though he intended so.

The taller woman, resembling a night elf, studied him again, and crossed her arms, raising her eyebrows in a defeated expression.

“Well, you’re not much, but could be of use. How about you help me catch that demon you interrupted me chasing and I promise to bring you a nice trinket?”

“What? No? No. Definitely not. No more deals.” He waved his hands in a denying sign, shaking his head with a frown.

“I can tell just with a look just how much you could use an item or two, so I am willing to help. Why wouldn’t you too?”

“No.” He slowly turned around, expecting to be greeted by a blade again.

“Why not?” She insisted but didn’t move from the spot, even though he already took a considerable distance.

“I’m done with deals! I’ve gained more trouble from them than anything else.”

“I give you my word, warlock.” She saw one of his ears twitching at her shout.

“Why should I take it for granted?” He stopped and turned the slightest to look her way, arching an eyebrow.

“Because that’s what mercenaries do. Serve for something in exchange.”

He stared back at the taller figure in the distance and considered the deal. If had been a demon he missed seeing when he was hit with the blast, then perhaps it was indeed the one he called for, and two possible deals sounded better than none.

“Fine… Let’s get going then.” He resumed his walk and just within moments, with a heavy thud the other leaped and landed at his side, nearly giving him a jump scare into the nearby tree. He heard his new partner chuckling low to herself as they continued their way. He really didn’t enjoy her know-it-all attitude and snarky remarks, so he would have to find a way to manage being around her until the deal was done; but he dealt with worse in the past, so perhaps it wouldn’t be such a hustle after all.

“You got a name, warlock?” She looked his way for a brief moment, then leaned her head to avoid tangling her horns into some low branches. She caught glimpse of him furrowing his eyebrows before making up a reply.

“You don’t need it.”

“Secretive. I see. Well, I’m Saelas. If you change your mind, I’d be glad to hear your name anytime.”

They kept on wandering through the lands of Feralas for some good hours after they left the ruins behind; all mostly in silence, exchanging only opinions regarding where the missing one could’ve gone. They were on the top of a stone bridge when Saelas suddenly took a halt, causing the elf to pull on the reins of his Felstalker and bring it to a stop as well.

“What?” He asked flatly, curiously looking around too, even if the other didn’t look much triggered by anything in particular. There was nothing odd within the sights, nor could he hear any misplaced noise. The woman took a deep breath and closed her eyes, looking focused for a moment, then exhaled slowly and looked back at her partner.

“I don’t feel anything.” She admitted with a tone of defeat in her voice. The warlock gave her a weird look and frowned the slightest, steadying his mount as he grew nervous with the sudden break they took.

“What’s it to be felt?”

“The demon! The fel! I am starting to believe taking you along was a bad idea.”

“Why? Because I can’t just snap my fingers to bring you the prey?” He cut her off, mildly annoyed. He didn’t want to be in her company either, but yet again, they made a bargain, and he promised himself, deep inside, that no matter what happens, he will get his reward this time one way or another.

“Because of your stench!”

The elf parted his mouth in shock at the other’s remark. Surely, he wasn’t one alike those in Silvermoon, bathed in all sorts of perfumes and lotions, but he surely wasn’t as repulsive as an undead would be for instance.

“What does my smell have to do with the demon?” He avoided pressing on the subject that shook him.

“Not your smell in particular. I was rather referring to the fel within you.” She furrowed her eyebrows, thoughtfully. “It’s so strong it blurs my senses.”

The warlock gave Saelas a studious look. So, she could indeed sense beyond his looks, but was she aware of anything else? The times which he spent, brainwashed, within the armies of legion, helping them summon their troops, surely left a mark on him, which wasn’t truly to his disadvantage. His summoning capacities and overall spell power were greatly increased with the rather traumatizing experience. A price one had to pay, though the hardest burden to carry was the blood on his hands he spilled unwillingly; though apart from himself and probably one more person, nobody else from this world would believe it so, taking him for a merciless criminal rather than anything else.

“I can’t control that.”

“I know. I just thought at first the whole aura lied within that place, but after hours of riding by your side, I figured it can’t be the surroundings, since it always stayed just as strong; it had to be you.”

“Well, then? What’s your suggestion?” He pulled onto the reins, making his already agitated mount face her Felsaber, which let out a low growl. He watched the other chew on her thoughts, while trying to decide upon something, which probably was among letting him go or having him stay.

“I say we find a place to rest. I will get more accustomed to your presence and then everything should flow naturally.”

“I really don’t fancy this place though. It’s filled with ogres and other such malevolent creatures, around which I wouldn’t enjoy being asleep. Made this mistake once in the past and it was enough.”

“Well, then. What’s around?”

“Taurens.”

“Hmm…” She hummed silently, considering one of their camps.

“How do you even deal with others?” He suddenly asked, though the question bugged him for a while already.

“What do you mean?”

“How do you get along with the world? Are you tolerated or…?”

“Oh. Well, the rest are still afraid of our demonic nature and they rather keep distance from us… And even if sometimes it’s convenient, other times I wish-”

The sound of multiple pairs of hooves brought their conversation to a sudden silence and both turned their attention to the corner around which the noise seemed to come from. A group of alliance soldiers, mounted on horses made their appearance shortly after, stopping before the bridge they still stood on. The elf grew tense and his grip tightened on the reins as his heels urged the Felstalker to turn their way.

“Good evening.” A man said, marching towards to where the bridge started. “We are heading towards Silithus. Can you confirm this is the right path?”

The warlock gave a quick look to the rest that gathered; they seemed to have packed caravans and armed soldiers, while a bunch of night elves accompanied them far in the back. They all came quite a long way and it wasn’t the first group they encountered that day, and even during his past travels, saw many heading the same way these claimed to do.

“Evening.” Saelas replied from his side, making him turn his attention towards her. “You’re on the right path indeed, but watch out for the ogres. They tend to wander at night and could be tempted by your luggage.” She gave a quick point with her chin towards one of their caravans.

“Very well, then. Thank you, travelers.” The man pushed his mount forward as the two cleared their way, by stepping off the bridge. They exchanged glances with the large group and watched them go, disappearing through the darkness of the old forest.

The blood elf let out a breath he didn’t realize he held, and felt his entire body relax back in the saddle as the rest got out of their sight. Though his face wasn’t known by many, he couldn’t risk anything. It was always a hustle when he had to enter a tavern or a bigger city, since he felt all eyes on him, even though most of it was probably just in his mind. Azeroth seemed to have other issues to be fixed on now, rather than his presence here and there. Surely nobody would forget the atrocities he helped happen, but with the Legion gone, he wasn’t a main focus anymore.

“So, warlock… Where to?” He heard the other saying, snapping him out from the train of thoughts. He truly didn’t enjoy being called that, and even if he considered not revealing his name at all, or giving her a fake one, such thoughts somehow vanished from his brain, and decided to let himself in the hands of fate and go with the truth.

“Let’s just get out of here for now.” He finally picked the pace back up and crossed the bridge they stayed on for a while, having the other trail behind him. “And it’s Maelon.”

“I’m sorry…?” The demon hunter looked his way, rather confused by his reply, and watched him turn a bit to peek over the shoulder.

“My name is Maelon.”

“Maelon.” She repeated to herself, having the feeling that she heard it somewhere before and wondering whether they have encountered each other in the past, perhaps under different circumstances, or if it only sounded alike some other she came across. She shrugged it off however, for that moment, keeping in mind to find out more about the blood elf she was travelling with. He didn’t speak much though, so she’d have to bring in her best social skills she got and probably some wine.

A sensation of déjà vu hit the warlock once they passed by the large wooden totems at the entrance of Mulgore, which marked the tauren territory. He recalled riding across the same path years ago, just with a different partner, and yet, under similar circumstances. The memories before becoming entirely a slave of the Legion crossed his mind every now and then, making him wonder what his old partner, which was also his brother, was doing, or whether he was alive at all or not after all that happened. Perhaps he would try and get in touch with him someday, and even though his sibling believed in his true self until the very last moment he could, he still was a bit afraid of what his reaction might be after it all.

The mount kept on following the dusty path, with the elf lingering in the saddle quite idle as his mind wandered places. Even his partner remained silent for a while, breaking the silence only when she noticed the lights of a settlement in the distance.

“Maelon.” She spoke his name, but without success. The sound of their mounts’ feet covered her rather silent voice. She urged her Felsaber until she reached his side, catching his attention and making him glance at her with eyebrows slowly raised in question.

“Should we head there?” She pointed the place where the lights still flickered. The elf looked in the distance and only gave the other a small nod in response, slowly shifting the direction into the desired one. Saelas watched him for few more moments, unsure of what was on the warlock’s mind, but decided not to question any further. She was rather one up for conversations, as silent walks tended to bore her and add unnecessary tension, but she respected her partner if he chose any different; she’d let him be if he didn’t want to speak.

When they finally stopped and dismounted, tying the reins to a more isolated spot, as they didn’t want their fel infused companions to cause any trouble or attract unnecessary attention. Sure, the taurens were usually calm and open to visitors, but it was an area less visited by oddities like them, unlike Origrimmar or even Thunder Bluff, which wasn’t that far. When they made their way in the small inn, which also served food and drinks, they were greeted by a bunch of curious looks, which only made Maelon bury his head deeper into the hood, though most of the curious looks seemed to be directed his partner’s way this time. Taurens and orcs populated most of the space, while two goblins were far in the back, talking loudly, probably about some business they couldn’t agree on. The two sat themselves at the only table for two left, in a quite isolated corner and both felt a small relief once the looks of the rest seem to lose focus from them and resume their loud chat and laughter.

“Mmm… Good evening, travelers. What may I bring you?” A tauren female, which was most probably the innkeeper also, showed up a bit after they claimed their seats, waiting patiently for their order.

“Good evening. Bring us your specialty and some nice drinks.” Maelon offered her a polite smile, though his eyes analyzed her features for any kind of suspicion; fortunately the tauren only nodded as she scribbled down her notepad, and returned the smile, as peaceful as they always did, making the elf fully relax in his seat as she departed, pulling his hood back a bit, not yet fully revealing himself as the place was still too stuffed.

“Drinks, eh?” Saelas grinned. “Is this how you end a long day? Or just drink your worries under the table?” She tried pressing on, hoping to get something from the other. The elf looked at her with a bored stare, taking his time to pick his words.

“That’s usually what one does in order to survive after not putting anything in his stomach in three days.”

“Three days? Is that your personal record?” She snorted rather defiant.

“Nah. I had better periods.” He puffed with a small laugh.

“You mean worse.” She chuckled as well, satisfied that he seemed to be open for a chat and yet, disappointed he actually avoided answering her questions.

“Yeah.” He leaned over the table as his drink got placed before him, then grabbed the large wooden mug and let half of it pour down his throat without drawing a single breath. He placed the drink back down with a heavy thud and wiped his mouth, eyeing the other sipping her mug in a more gracefully manner than his own, in a total contrast with her raw looks.

“So, Maelon… How’s life for a warlock? Apart from dirty deeds with demons, how else do you live your life? Grab some gold?”

“Whoa now. Too many questions.” He leaned back on the table, resting his forearms on its edge and studiously staring at the other. “Why would you care of such?”

“I’m just curious. Always wondered what you guys do, since not everyone eyes you as good.”

“Well, I could say the same about you, my lady.” He arched his eyebrows as he took another sip.

“I told you. I’m a mercenary.”

“Oh, so you meant it.”

“Of course.”

“Fair enough.” He nodded with a shrug.

“So, what is it? Potions? You don’t look like crafting more meticulous things.”

“Yeah.”

“Not sure what to pick from that.” She let out a small laugh, mirroring his position.

“I do potions. Been raised by one doing that on a daily basis, along with herbalism. Quite boring if you ask me, but it’s not something complicated to do and one could always use a drink or two in the pouch, so there’s always a client willing to pay.”

“That’s convenient. Perhaps I should try it too, when I will get old and tired of what I do.”

“Don’t count me in as a teacher.”

“Well, why not?” They both backed off a bit when the tauren came with the food plates, both large and enough to feed more than just a stomach.

“I lack patience.”

“Didn’t seem so to me.” She looked hungrily at the steak before her as she grabbed the worn-out cutlery.

“Then you clearly don’t know me.” He laughed it off, then took a bite, not bothering to busy himself with any manners.

“Wouldn’t mind to find out more, though.” Saelas added with a smile, then proceed on stuffing herself too, realizing only then how much she missed a good, warm meal.


	2. The Eyes from the Shadow

The blood elf kept his eyes on his new partner, as discreetly as possible. As a mercenary, probably assigned to finish the demon she was chasing or claim something from him, she was for sure just keen on finding her subject; however, she could’ve had ties with people that wouldn’t have eyed him with friendly eyes that easily. Of course, she had an interest in the middle, and so had he, with the deal made going on, which meant that they had to get along up to some point, but he could bet that if she found out how much of a money deal his head was, she would drop whatever task she had to turn him in. For now, they were on safe terms, as he thought; no suspicion raised yet, unless she played a double role incredibly well.

“Say…” He started after a sip, glancing at his empty plate and deep in his mind appreciating the fullness of his stomach. His partner raised her eyes, arching an eyebrow in question. “What’s the deal with that demon of yours?”

“I wanted to ask the same, because I have a feeling we are chasing the same horned bastard.” She put down the cutlery, seeming to be done with her meal as well. “You said something about a trinket offer he made you.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, these guys that paid me to bring him down have gotten themselves into some dirty trouble for doing some of his deeds, and never saw his part of the bargain coming in return.”

“Sounds incredibly familiar.” He snorted, thinking that he was stuck with the same kind of problem.

“Exactly my thought.” She leaned back in her seat and brushed behind her ear a rebel strand of her fair hair, then crossed her arms, with her eyes still on the other, who seemed to be busy with something or rather someone else. He was glancing with a frown over his shoulder and even if she tried to stare the way he did, there were to many folks around to figure which one got his attention. She waited patiently for him to eventually return to their talk, but when he turned back her way, he still wore the furrowed eyebrows. She watched him busy himself with the empty mug for a bit, looking as if he waited for something, his ears looking tense.

Saelas shifted in her seat, still holding his gaze, even though he was still not focused on her. The tension between them broke rather abruptly when the tauren returned to their table to pick the empty plates.

“Should I bring you anything else?”

“The bill.” Maelon replied shortly, to which the innkeeper nodded before leaving. His eyes shifted from the tauren’s silhouette disappearing through the still crowded place to the demon hunter, their gazes finally locking.

“We’re being followed.” He added in an almost soundless whisper, the other having to read off his lips most of the sentence. She inhaled sharply and restrained herself from immediately throwing her eyes the direction he stared earlier for another check.

“So where to next?” She tried keeping the conversation as casual as possible, though, being tracked or not, they still had to pick a way.

“We’ll split outside, pretend to go separate ways.” He leaned over the table, talking just as silently as before, grabbing the bill they just got delivered and according it too much attention, while trying to make up a plan.

“Rendezvous?” She replied shortly, knowing that they had to reunite at some point.

“At the crossroads not far from here. There’s a large tree there.” He searched his robe for a few moments, then placed on the table the coins for their order, raising from his seat casually.

“Who’s picking the road?”

“I will.” He fixed his hood on the head and waited for his partner to stand up and walk together back out to where their mounts were tied.

While still keeping a close eye on the surroundings for an eventual silhouette following them, Maelon began untying his Felstalker from the wooden fence not far from the inn tent they spent their evening into. He mounted up and adjusted himself in the saddle while trying to maintain a non-suspicious talk with the demon hunter.

“It was nice meeting you. Safe travels!” He waved her a short good bye after she mumbled something alike in return, still a bit confused of the entire situation and still unsure who was their tracker and beginning to think that she was being pulled in a trap. Saelas watched the other disappear through the mist of the evening, floating around raised from the grass and nearby lake, then decided to linger a while more around her Felsaber, pretending to adjust her belongings on the pouches it carried. She hoped to catch glimpse of a suspicious silhouette, but nobody came out apart from a small group of loud drunk orcs, bumping against each other while heading towards the bonfire in the center of the settlement.

The elf pursed her lips and decided to get back in the saddle again and eventually head for the meeting spot, thinking that if it wasn’t a trap the warlock decided to pull onto her, then it must have been just a mistake, because nobody appeared to leave the tavern and check the surroundings for any of them. She threw another look around carefully as she went through the small village at a slow pace and urged her mount to a canter through the thick mist as soon as she crossed the bridge and passed by the entrance totem they encountered at their arrival.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have much of a sight ahead, but tried her best to keep her ears keen on anything peculiar nearby. However, it was still her eyes that noticed a dark feline silhouette crossing the path quite a distance ahead of herself, and unless it was a lost hunter nearby, such wildlife shouldn’t have populated the nearby area. Saelas pulled onto the reins and decided to leave the path, following the recent discovery and see where it disappeared as swift as an arrow, knowing that nearby there had to be their rendezvous spot as well.

Her senses picked up the strong fel infused scent lingering in the air, which was unmistakably her partner, who probably passed by recently, so she brought her mount to a halt and sent it nearby a patch of trees. Her body trembled for a moment and with a silent groan, she let the wings spring out her back and lift her in the air with few flaps, in the hope of a better sight. She narrowed her eyes and made up the shape of the crossroads wooden mark, then a mounted silhouette heading towards it, closing in shortly, while a shadow seemed to be trailing it from a parallel side, slowly approaching.

That was no hunter’s companion, it was a druid! The thought made Saelas inhale sharply, blaming herself for only looking around for humanoid silhouettes, totally discarding anything else from the sight. It could’ve passed by her anytime without a notice, just like it actually happened. The two shadows moving through the mist closed the distance between the meeting spot and themselves quite dangerously fast, so without a second thought, she pushed herself through the air and like a predator leaped through the night, heading towards the destination. The ground cracked beneath her feet as she landed, while a sudden green light filling the surroundings from a source nearby, which couldn’t be anything or anyone else other than the warlock. She felt the ground shaking beneath her and loud wooden-like cracks being accompanied soon by groans and pained moans filled the air. But just as she picked up the pace to head towards the disturbance source, she got greeted by a powerful shockwave, which made her shield her eyes while trying to peek at whatever caused it. With lips parted in shock, she glanced around at the mist that was no more and saw their tracker pierced to the ground by nothing else than an infernal, while the warlock panted heavily nearby, with his eyes glowing a bright shade of green.

Saelas approached the scene with a leap and let her wings vanish with the smallest frown, still more preoccupied by what she witnessed.

“We didn’t really need this whole diversion. You look like you have it under control.” She measured the infernal cautiously, from the ground, up to its tiny head, then her eyes shifted to the blood elf who was slowly recovering himself from the summoning.

“Let go of me! Legion slave!” The druid screamed from the rock hard, suffocating grip of the infernal.

“This is not under control.” He pointed out at the sight, still heaving for a breath. “She had me tangled in roots.”

“He called out the darkest forces!”

“Well, I am sorry! Warlocks don’t work with holy light!”

“The legion screams within your eyes, through that wretched tongue and language!”

Maelon narrowed his eyes at the hysterical prisoner, question just how much she was aware of; wondering whether that was her general opinion on warlocks, which wasn’t something peculiar, or if there was more to it, not willing to have his partner hear of it.

“Speak now or I will have your bones cracked.”

“Whoa now.” Saelas suddenly jumped into the talk, feeling like it was all going places without her to be implied into it other than as an observer. “No bone cracking.” She eyed the druid, who stared at them in turns, pained by the grip and disgusted with the fel infused sight.

“Let me go!” She pressed on angrily.

“First you let us know why you were following, and then we’ll think about setting you lose.”

Maelon threw his partner a glance, willing to rather live off without a big mouth, than risking his skin. Surely spilling blood wasn’t to his liking, but he could send the druid for a while into the Twisted Nether. She’d eventually find her way out.

“I don’t make deals with twisted tongues like you two.”

“If you want to live, you will.” The warlock replied on a threatening tone, then made a sign to the infernal to let the prisoner go. They watched the young night elf consider her departure, but choosing to linger a bit more instead, under the pressure of her two capturers.

“I was just sent to follow you.” She finally let out something worth the hearing for the others.

“By who?” Saelas asked, crossing her arms, looking actually relaxed. She eyed her partner for a moment as he proceed into opening a portal and send the infernal back.

“No matter. I doubt it’d count.”

“That’s not upon you to decide.” Maelon muttered low, focusing now on the talk too and measuring the other from head to toes. She looked like a young druid, but was swift and knew her ways quite well, for someone quite fresh in the fields. He watched her fighting her will to decide upon letting them know the rest or not.

“I was with the group, guarding the back of the convoy through Feralas.”

“Oh, so the Alliance eyed us suspiciously just for casually striding through the lands?”

“No such pair strides casually anywhere.”

“Oh? Really now?”

“Nobody trusts your kind. Either of you.” She hissed at the two full of hatred, making them exchange unimpressed glances.

“So, what’s up with you? You just got sent to follow us? Until then? Until where?! Look at you, you’re as easy to crack as an old nut.” Maelon snapped, annoyed with all the fuss that got created. Instead of minding their business, they were forced to deal with unnecessary trouble.

The druid shrugged, looking down, taking a step behind.

“I rather think she wasn’t sent.” Saelas finally added, looking at the warlock who raised his eyebrows questioningly. “I think she wanted to prove herself to the pack.” She grinned as she saw the younger one shifting nervously at her remark. Maelon snorted loudly, rolling his eyes, then puffed with a laugh.

“Prove herself? She could be lying here dead, if it wasn’t for us being so nice and instead have merciless attitude and thoughts as she presumed.”

“Just let me go…”

Saelas watched her for a longer moment. She did look uncomfortable for being read like a book and embarrassed; away from the group, which were now probably worried for her absence. She let her hands fall at her sides with a sigh while taking noticed of the warlock already retrieving his mount from nearby and getting ready to mount back up.

“I say we let her be.” She finally added, to the brief relief of the younger one.

“Yeah. Have those drunk orcs deal with her.” He made half of a circle around them, staring down the tracker.

“I am sure she’s swift enough to avoid them.”

“I don’t plan on staying here to witness that.” He gave the demon hunter a look, noticing the absence of her mount anywhere nearby. “You’re on foot?”

“I abandoned it nearby a patch of trees.”

“Great.” Maelon muttered, then offered her a hand, to which she stared in confusion. “Don’t you want a lift?”

“It’s not that far really. Wait here.”

The blood elf watched her go and shook his head and caught with the corner of his eye sight of the small druid, still lingering close to the crossroads pole.

“If I were you, I’d be on my way already.”

“You’re not good at pretending.”

He got his attention triggered by the cryptic remark and pulled onto the reins to face the speaker.

“You’re not the best stalker either.”

“True enough.” She admitted nonchalantly with a small shrug.

The sound of trot approaching had Maelon turn to check and see Saelas closing in and stopping by his side, questioning him with a quick look, and have her eyes shift back and forth between him and the young elf. He made a short sign with his chin, pointing towards the misty path that would lead them further into Mulgore, hoping to clear their minds and pick up an actual route for the chase, away from unwanted ears and eyes. With a last glance at their unsuccessful stalker, they urged mounts and disappeared through the darkness, leaving the night elf’s silhouette behind.


	3. Beyond Kalimdor

A couple of days passed, in which the two roamed the surroundings, going even through Feralas again and back towards the Northern Barrens even, asking here and there about an eventual sight. Those from the smallest settlements cowered at their sight and spoke in fear, mostly when they heard it had something to do with a dreadlord. Nobody wanted to hear anymore of demons after the Legion that infused the fear of an impending end into everyone.

“He could’ve gone anywhere and we’re just spinning in a circle without success. If only you caught glimpse of him jumping into a portal or something!” She started on a blaming tone, her shoulders slouching with demotivation. She really disliked such situations and even if she hoped for the warlock to make her job a bit easier, it appeared that it didn’t worked out as well as she presumed it would.

“Or perhaps you just give him some time and lied to me of the purpose.” She narrowed her eyes at him, finally snapping his attention from filling his meticulously detailed pipe.

“Why would you think that?”

“Maybe because sleazy warlocks, just like their disgusting servants, can’t be trusted for much.”

“I take this personal. I feel offended, my lady.” He replied calmly while focusing back on adjusting the tobacco into the pipe.

“Oh, you should take it as a compliment.” She gave him a grimace resembling a disgust accompanied by a smile, all fading too fast in the favor of an annoyed frown. With a quick unexpected move, she tackled the pipe to the ground as her hand reached for his throat and pinned him into the nearby tree, shading them from the afternoon sun, having the mounts snarl at each other at the sudden tension in the air. They were usually alright to be around, if one didn’t mind the permanent stench resembling something toxic being burned nearby.

“Listen to me, Maelon. I could continue this journey alone and still find that damn demon, one way or another. I mistook you for a helping hand, but I won’t hesitate getting rid of you in the quickest, and possibly, not so merciful way.”

With his hands gripping at the one holding him he struggled to keep himself breathing. He was aware of the sharpness of her blade ever since their first encounter, and even if he faced greater powers than a demon hunter, he was genuinely afraid that she wouldn’t hesitate doing what she teased she would. He was so tired of all the chase from the years that passed, that each event that triggered back his fears, made him want to get on his knees and actually beg for her blade to end him rather than be tortured for longer than he even lived.

“I know. Please… Let go.” His voice came out hoarse and shortly after felt the sudden pressure relief as she released him. He nearly stumbled onto his feet as he regained his posture and took few deep breaths as his hands raised in surrender, facing her.

“I will try-“ He started, then cleared his throat with a cough, before resuming his talk, under the other’s scouting eyes. “I will try think of something or someone that can help us locate him. Summoning him directly is clearly not the solution, as you noticed when you emerged from the portal, possibly along with him, since I didn’t caught sight.”

“But it could work.” She pressed on.

“I doubt he went back into the Twisting Nether once he got out.”

“So, you knew you were going to just set him lose, only because you wanted that damn trinket.” She almost snarled the words at the other. He hesitated for a moment, but eventually agreed with a small nod, which had her let out a loud, angry groan, turning around and pacing away just a few steps.

“I was going to try and send him back once I got my hands on what I was promised.”

“After years of working with demons you still expect them to be fair anyhow?!” She puffed with a laughter, not believing her ears. “You’re more of an idiot than I thought.”

“You may think so, but I can wield quite some power.” He frowned, not willing to spill out too much, but definitely hating to be taken as a weakling. He may have been defenseless in some situations, like a blade suddenly at his throat, but he knew his ways when it came to his type of troublemakers.

“Speaking of which. How in the world did you even summon an infernal within seconds? I saw your encounter from above and considering you’ve been also rooted, I can’t figure how you managed to pull out such a number.”

“Skills.” He chuckled low, more to self, then looked at the other with a grin spreading on his features. “I gave her a good scare.”

“Bet you could’ve done that with one of those fel pups of yours. She didn’t look like she’s seen much, but had the mouth and guts of a thousand.”

“Yeah, too bad that won’t suffice her lack of skill.”

“I’d love to see how you were back in the day, when you were her age.”

“Eh.” He dismissed it quickly, collecting his pipe from the ground and checking if there were any contents left in. He let out a small sigh and searched again his pouch to add some more.

“Did I touch a sensitive subject?” Her interest suddenly sparkled, brushing away her anger.

“Not sensitive.” He mumbled while trying to light up the pipe. “But the past should stay there as it is, undisturbed.”

“Ashamed of what you were once?” She grinned, leaning against the tree he was pinned to just minutes before. He watched her while taking a long drag, blowing the smoke sideways.

“My past wasn’t the brightest of all.”

“Don’t tell me. Your parents actually wanted you to be a mage.” She let out a small laugh, which faded as his features gained a rather grim shade.

“My parents were long dead.”

“I’m sorry… It was silly of me to presume such matters.” She searched his eyes for a moment, then looked down, embarrassed with her attitude. Usually she didn’t care much of mean remarks, but she could’ve never amused herself on other’s painful past, which also included the loss of loved ones.

“You couldn’t know. It’s alright.”

“My mouth just speaks too much sometimes.”

She watched him take distance from her, leaving the shade of the tree for the hot sun and stare into the distance, taking in the desolating view of Barrens. Her mind slipped however from the foolish moment she brought upon herself, drifting back to the question she asked and he successfully avoided, like many other. His silver tongue made her thoughts shift directions faster than she could even acknowledge the subject being changed, making her wonder what in his past made him evolve into the slipping snake he was now. She wasn’t really used to having a partner, since being a mercenary usually implied things that had to be done alone, but now it appeared to be an exceptional situation, from which both would benefit. She loved to untangle people, which came to her advantage many times, in both solving her jobs and acquiring beneficial relationships with various. However, the warlock was a hard nut to crack; he let out only bits and even those seemed questionable sometimes. She couldn’t even tell his age or experience, since he kept both hidden under a veil; his face permanently shielded by the hood and strands of long dark hair, while his abilities were either foolishly weak, or unexplainably strong.

Maelon narrowed his eyes thoughtfully as he let the thick white smoke come out through his partly open lips, while still staring into the distance. He replayed in his mind the summoning from Feralas for so many times ever since he left with the demon hunter by his side, that he was now clearly seeing it before his eyes, like a projection, and there was still no sign of the one they were supposedly following. No clue where he might have gone or if he had been there at all, since none of them had this certainty; one only knew he summoned him, while one knew she chased him through the portal.

“What if he never got out and just tricked you into it?” He spoke his thoughts loud enough for the woman to hear him. Saelas turned her attention towards him, only partly aware of what he said, not really paying attention to his sudden babble.

“Trick what?” She asked, hoping for a clarification, then watched the other coming back her way.

“What if he never crossed the portal?”

“I almost had him within my grasp! He couldn’t pass by it.” She frowned at the proposed theory. She _knew_ what she saw when she jumped in, but the other also knew what he _didn’t_ see.

“Well, he couldn’t have just vanish into thin air.” The blood elf furrowed his eyebrows as well, taking an angry drag from the pipe, his nostrils flaring with frustration at the thought they couldn’t wrap their minds around what exactly happened back in the forest.

“You’re the summoner here. You should know what in the world you did out there. However… I still don’t understand why don’t you try the same scheme again?”

“He wouldn’t fall twice for the same trick.”

“Look, Maelon. I am tired of walking in circles and hoping to catch glimpse of him. He could be on the other side of Azeroth and we wouldn’t know!”

“Maybe that’s it.” His eyebrows jumped with a trace of excitement at the sudden suggestion, at which the other clicked her tongue with an eyeroll, looking at him with a quite scandalized look, as if she’d be saying _you must be kidding me_.

“There is no way I will be wasting days on a ship to get to the other continent.”

“Then what’s your solution?”

“Portals? You know how to make them. Do one.” Her hands rested on her hips, expectantly, but the other shook his head with an annoyed sigh.

“Only a mage could do such a portal.”

“I can’t believe this.” Saelas muttered under her breath and slapped her hands against her thighs with a loud noise, startling the birds from the branches above their heads.

“I see you don’t really understand how fel magic works.”

“I understand nothing when it comes to you!”

“Good.”

“Don’t you dare mock me, warlock.” She hissed between clenched teeth.

“Oh. You’ll have to try harder to give me a shiver under this heat.” Maelon dismissed her attitude by turning around, but got almost instantly tackled to the ground and began to wrestle his way out the sudden attack. However, the demonic blood running through the other’s veins strengthened her beyond his presumptions. He was never one up for a fist fight or anything of the sort, as physical strength was clearly not on his attributes list.

The blood elf was already drenched in sweat and wrapped in dust, when he finally met her eyes for a longer moment and made a quick whispered spell, sending her off him within seconds. She shrieked in fear, shielding her eyes from something one couldn’t see, while Maelon took advantage of the freedom moment and got back up on his feet, his eyes already glowing a brighter green as he prepared a spell to counter an eventual second attack. When Saelas finally eyed him back, he only saw hatred in her glare. Whatever the fear infused vision granted her, only added hay to the already burning fire. With a short, yet powerful battle cry, she grabbed her twin blades and a pair of wings sprung on her back as she launched herself at him. The attack was so swift he didn’t manage to mutter any spell fast enough to stop her from coming, no matter his initial preparation. One of her weapons sliced right through his robe, tracing along the curve of his ribs and sending him a burning pain so intense, that the flaming green spark faded from his eyes. The warlock limped few steps away, while one of his hands held pressure against the fresh wound; his eyes took in the smirk that spread across the other’s lips as she turned his way, ready to strike again, pleased with the weakness she triggered. He parted his hand from his ribs for a peek and silently began to chant a summoning spell, hissing the words with a frown and a nose wrinkle, as the pressure met the cut again, all while Saelas prepared for another attack; but despite the leap she made, she found herself stopped abruptly midair, by something she failed noticing. The summoning happened faster than she moved, and now a Voidlord pulled onto her legs, absorbing them into the grasp of his hands, slamming her into the ground as she failed to hold up any longer.

“I thought we were supposed to work like a team.” His eyes narrowed at her as he approached, almost dragging the leg that was on the wound’s side, as a numbness spread through his body. The demon hunter was now held to the ground, her cheek brushing against the rough soil, while her eyes only locked with the other’s when he crouched at her side, tilting his head. “You keep on mocking me and I like it none. I may not match your physical strength, but I have so many other ways to twist you inside out in the most horrible ways.” His voice lowered with each word spoken, until it was nearly a whisper.

“If you’re capable of such spell power, why do you even bother so much for a poor trinket?”

“Because he owed it to me. I did his deeds and since I am nobody’s slave, I demand my payment.”

“So, it’s actually your pride in the game.” She smirked, still pressed against the ground. The warlock made a quick move with his hand and the demon vanished into thin air with a whooshing sound, watching his partner gathering herself back onto her two. He stood up as well, with a rather sloppy move, as dizziness began catching up on him. Whatever the blades were infused with, didn’t do any good to his body.

“Let’s get going. If we’re lucky enough, maybe we find a mage willing to make us a portal for some gold.”

“Where to?” She watched him struggle to mount up, and a trace of guilt crossed her mind at the scene. They agreed working on this one together; she shouldn’t have gone this far.

“Orgrimmar for now.”  
  


Travelling through portals that moved him rather randomly closer to the destination he had in mind, as he avoided as much as possible to cross paths with anyone that would cause him further trouble than intended, the dreadlord finally found himself stepping on the lands of Eastern Kingdoms. He took disguise as a hooded traveler and had a ship cross him the vast sea, to the other continent. With the world still heavily wounded by the impact the Legion had, people all over were still keen on anything that felt peculiar or fel infused, which was why warlocks were eyed rather poorly during such times, forced to stay more in the shadows. The situation was no different for a dreadlord, who no matter what disguise took, still had the rotten core some could sense. It would make his purpose harder to achieve, but he had a reason to believe that eventually he would be successful.

Stormwind was as crowded as usual, so his presence went unnoticed. He adjusted the hood over his head as he left the ship and strode through the port, taking in the surroundings; all sorts of people wandering around, from travelers to merchants, fishermen and surely, guards. He was a master at deceiving, so he didn’t worry as much for walking freely through the city, but he did keep an eye on anyone that would seem suspicious towards him. He stopped before the very place where the young king spent most probably most of his time, if not away through the lands. He gave it a thoughtful look, and with a smirk just for himself, beneath the hood’s cover, he nodded as he left.

“Soon, my boy. Soon…”


	4. At the Tavern

It was late in the evening when Orgrimmar’s gates, lit up by fires dancing across the chunky metal reinforcements, appeared before their eyes. They had stopped few times for Maelon to patch his wound and drink some potions made during one of their breaks, to aid him into surpassing the effects of the blade. Saelas murmured few apologies on the way, feeling now her quick temper and actions as being unnecessary trouble added to their list, but the warlock dismissed them each time, by saying it was nothing. It was quite nothing to other things he’s been through, though the pain and numbness troubled him for a while more after they first departed.

“Should I enter?” She asked, taking a halt before the entrance, noticing the two orc guards eyeing her and measuring her from head to toes. Maelon looked back at her and considered her question. Surely, once a demon hunter, with fel running through one’s veins, it didn’t matter as much anymore what her past self meant, to many being as lost as an undead for the living ones, that craved for well being in other manners.

“Not like this.” He replied in a low voice and pushed his heels into the mount to turn around and make their way around, striding into the deserted lands once again. The blood elf stopped under the cover of a tunnel through some bigger rocks and after leaving the saddle, he began to search the pouches chained to the beast’s back. Saelas gave him a tired look, thinking he might search again for some healing potion and widened her eyes in surprise and mild confusion when she saw a bottle being pushed her way.

“It’ll help you with a disguise.”

“You’re giving me a shape shifting drink?” She took out the cap and smelled it, her nose wrinkling at the unpleasant scent coming out of it.

“I want you with me. Otherwise, we’ll make whatever mage will agree to do us a portal get suspicious, if we drag him outside and sees you.”

She snorted with a puff, even though she knew exactly what he was referring to and she was agreeing entirely with it. Despite minding their own business, they could be taken for some imaginary evil doings.

“What about my weapons?”

“Tie them to your mount and cover them with something. Do I have to tell you every move you have to do?”

“No, but… I’ve never been casually into the Horde’s capital.”

“But have you _ever_ been there?”

“No.”

“Then why- Oh, nevermind. Just drink that already.” He shook his head and pulled onto the chains to fix his bags better before claiming back the reins and get ready to depart. He watched his partner smelling the bottle again with disgust and consume its contents out of few gulps right after.

“What will I turn into?” She felt her stomach jump with an acid sting.

“A blood elf.”

“At least it’s not a goblin.” She mumbled, feeling an odd tickling sensation all across her body, as the pain within her guts persisted and seemed to expand like a pulse through her being. Her bones and joints started to hurt, slowly shrinking her well-built physique into the more delicate one of a female blood elf.

“It feels so fragile…” She looked at the thin arms as she proceed into tying her blades, hidden beneath some bags and cloth pieces, while still feeling a peculiar sensation running through her body, the armor feeling bigger and heavier under the new shape of herself.

“It’s still you on the inside, but don’t pull any bold move out there. Might break the spell.”

“Wouldn’t risk it.”

“Yeah, you only risk it with me.”

“It was an accident. I apologized.”

“Jumping at my throat was an accident?!” His voice raised with annoyance, echoing in the small space.

“It wasn’t really your throat.”

“It’s a metaphor!” He left the hiding spot, still scandalized by the subject being brought back to his mind, feeling his side aching once again.

They took a detour and approached a side entrance, not wishing to meet again the same scouting eyes. Chances were that they didn’t cause much of a suspicion yet, so they could step inside through the other side without any issues.

“How long does this last?” She rode at his side at a slow pace, while taking in breathlessly the surroundings of the Horde capital once they stepped in.

“One day.”

“You made it yourself?”

“Yes.”

“It tasted awful.”

“It contains few types of blood. It should taste so.” He peeked at her, still hidden beneath the hood and watched her retch in the saddle, to which he smiled and tried his best to hold back a laugh, since it actually contained just some rare herbs.

They took a small tour of Orgrimmar before stopping at the best place to find so late at night someone willing to do something for a coin or two; the tavern down the main road, The Broken Tusk. Always frequented by all kinds of travelers, dealing all sorts of deals, sharing goods, bets, and of course lots of drinks, the place bloomed with good spirits and sometimes intense arguments.

As soon as they stepped inside, a sudden noise filled their ears, deafening them for a moment. Unlike the small tavern within the tauren lands, nobody here turned their heads their way. Everyone minded their loud chatter, impossible anyway to withstand the continuous come and go flow along the row splitting the place in two and connecting the entrance with the bar. The smells within the tavern made the stench of the potion Saelas drank to be a perfume; from the alcohol of the beverages floating in the air, to all the dirt each traveler wore on their boots and clothes, and of course, the unmistakable undead miasma. However, nobody seemed to mind that, the intoxicating air becoming unnoticeable after a while, or so did the freshly morphed blood elf thought and hoped for.

“Stay close to me.” The warlock whispered, scouting the area in the hope that he will notice a presence that’d be benefic to them. But just as he turned to check on the other, he witnessed her being suddenly shouldered away between some tables by two drunk orcs that decided to wrestle their way out of the place. Muttering under his beard, he managed to make his way back to his partner, hoping that she won’t make a scene and stick to their plan.

“What even happened?” She blinked in plain confusion as she got dragged from the floor, nobody from the tables around seeming to notice them struggling around, towered by the bigger silhouettes all over.

“I told you to stay close to me. This place is wild.” He whispered only for her to hear and grabbed her wrist, dragging her towards the bar as no other table seemed to have seats for them too and not wishing to split table with some already drunk occupants.

They grabbed two worn out wooden seats and dragged them closer to the bar’s end, signaling the barkeep to come their way.

“Evening!” The orc’s voice came loud over the crowd to their ears as he approached, wiping a large mug with a piece of cloth.

“Good evening. Got any good wine?”

“The best Eversong traders can offer.”

“We’ll take some of that, then!”

The orc made a small nod in agreement, already heading to the other side of the bar for another order.

“Seen anything?” She leaned his way, trying to make herself heard without speaking too loudly.

“Not yet. I’ll ask the orc at the bar if nobody else worth an ask shows up.” He threw another glance over the shoulder, shifting in his seat with a frown as the wound still stung at stretching moves. His attention got turned back to the bar as the wooden surface trembled with the slam of two large mugs of wine being placed before them.

“Enjoy!” The orc grumbled, giving them the quick grimace of a smile, while being already called elsewhere. They watched him go, both trying to put themselves in his shoes and wondering how much they would resist in such a crazy, unpredictable atmosphere.

“Feeling like home yet?” She watched him taking few healthy gulps from the beverage. Though she visited plenty of taverns in her life, none compared to those horde exclusive. Though apparently rough and violent, they were just as welcoming like any other, but somehow radiated more acceptance. Surely, she wouldn’t know how she’d be welcome if it wasn’t for the potion she drank, but right now, even with the madness around, it felt alright.

She lost herself in the atmosphere, not really looking forward for the other’s reply, knowing him by now being short on words, and got surprised when his elbow nudged her.

“Saw something you like?” Under the shade of his hood she noticed an amused grin curving his lips.

“Not really.”

“You were smiling and I doubt that’s the potion’s effect.”

“Oh.” She concluded, rather surprised with herself as well, then turned around facing her drink and taking a sip while chewing on the thought. Perhaps the horde was as not as bad at the core as she was taught back in the day. After all, both sides committed crimes nobody wanted to speak of.

“And to answer your question; no, I don’t feel like home. Silvermoon was never like… This.” He motioned shortly at the surroundings. “But it’s somewhat comforting, I guess. Though lately I feel like belonging nowhere.”

Feeling him opening up again under the magic of the alcohol in the drink, she placed her elbow on the bar, holding her cheek in her palm and turning to the side to watch him expectantly.

“Why aren’t you going back there, then? I am sure they could use some potions too.”

He searched her eyes, while trying to manage formulate a proper reply to her unexpected question. It felt intrusive, and yet, it was a normal thing to ask. Why wouldn’t one want to return home? Though, he parted too long ago from the place. Taken away. Stripped from his homeland without much of an approval from himself.

“I am not connected to that place anymore.”

“Didn’t sound like it to me.”

“Well, that’s all you need to know.”

“Shouldn’t I be aware of who I travel with?”

“Could say the same about you.”

“Well, ask away.”

“What turned you the way you’re now?”

“A potion.”

“Smart.” He smirked. “But wrong answer. I’m talking about the horns.”

“The thirst for revenge. I had some things to settle and at that moment I felt it being the only way.”

Maelon watched her staring him in the eye, without any trace of regret for what she’s done. It sounded incredibly alike to his reasons of craving for power back in the day as well. Bringing to the ground the trolls that murdered his family and parted him from all that he called homeland, fueled his rage and need for revenge for so long, that when he grasped power, he didn’t know when to let it go and sank in deeper than his mind could handle, making out of himself a slave of the legion, which put on his hands blood he would’ve never spilled otherwise.

“You never look back on your past and wonder how would it be if you didn’t do this?”

“I think of it sometimes, but never regret it. I just question what could’ve been, as much as I question my breakfast choice or picking you as a partner in this.”

“Not sure what to take from this.” He chuckled, burying his face in the mug for a sip, but keeping his eyes on her.

“You could be as little or as much important as my food choice.”

“Your choice of words is at least odd, but fine.” He turned in his seat, searching for new faces, but without success. Judging by the armor or clothing in general, it appeared that the tavern was filled with everything but a friendly spell caster. His focus got drawn away by a soft warm touch, brushing his cheek for the smallest moment like a swift breeze and right as he turned back around, met the source of disturbance to be the other’s fingers, which were now pushing off his hood. In a sudden moment of panic, he wanted to slap her off and pull it back, but that’d rather raise more looks and suspicions, even from her side, so he end up just let his long black hair shield him from unwanted eyes, draping over his features.

“I will shave your hair when you’re asleep. What are you even shying away for? I saw undead hiding less than you.”

“These days you’re never too safe, so it’s better to stay off hidden.”

“We’ve been sleeping in turns, watching each other’s backs and you talk to me of safety? I could’ve thrown you to ogres long ago.”

“A calming thought.” He snorted, drinking the remaining wine, pondering whether he should get one more or just ask for the help they came for in first place.

“Look at me.” She demanded, her voice sounding suddenly closer than he recalled her being, his hair moving under her wine scented breath.

“Will you rage against if I won’t?” A low laugh echoed deep in his throat.

“Perhaps. You wouldn’t like that, would you? I could just mess with you, then leave you for these drunk lads.”

“They’d stomp me.” Still amused of their small talk, which was a totally plausible thought to him at that moment, he turned her way, and despite all the secrecy he held around her, and during the past years, around other’s curious eyes, he had her freely brush behind his ears part of his long strands of hair. The warlock watched his partner study his face and to his surprise, her smile didn’t fade into some unwelcoming grimace, but grew brighter with a trace of surprise.

“Well, now… Glad to see I am not stuck with some odd old man.”

“As if you couldn’t tell that any sooner.”

“Now, I am sure.”

On the contrary with his expectation, of her letting him be after she got the sight she wanted, he still felt her fingers lingering on his features, tracing along his deep, long healed wound that still split his cheek with a scar. He let her be for few more moments, floating under the caressing touch, while silently admiring her newly acquired features, thanks to his potion. Surely, even without it, she wasn’t an ugly presence, but her body bathing in demon blood had a word in it all, sharping her features, making her look more ferocious; all without the mention of her having actually a night elf beneath the demonic features, instead of the blood elf he had now before his eyes.

A loud singing choir interrupted the loud talk inside the tavern for a moment and everybody turned their attention towards the entrance, where a group of elves, already looking partly taken away by whatever drinks they had in the dripping flasks they still held, entered, rolling off their tongues, in their own language a travel song.

“And here’s our ticket out.” Maelon pulled back on his hood, nearly slapping off the other’s hand, staring pleased at the disgraceful presence of the three walking in, and being pulled at a table by a tauren, bursting all in a random wave of singing, blasting their lungs out with joy, each in another spoken tongue.


End file.
